Before
by Sara Jaye
Summary: A collection of pre-series drabbles, focusing on various characters and relationships.
1. Pull

The moon hangs high in the sky above her, and Katara knows if she doesn't go back soon her family will worry. iI will,/i she promises herself, all she wants is a little more time by the river. It always comforts her to be near the water, second to her mother's embrace the water is one thing that makes her feel like everything's going to always be all right.

Katara lets her hands hover just above the water, trying to feel its vibrations. The river seems to vibrate when the moonlight hits it, and she smiles at the sight. It's alive, just like her...moonlight and water, the moon and the ocean, always together. Just like the stories Mother tells her at night.

She pulls her hands away, and to her surprise the water rises with them. Katara's heart skips a beat, her eyes close, and she concentrates harder. Hands directly above the water, moving slowly upward...when she opens her eyes, the water jumps from the river into her outstretched palms.

_I...I did it!_ The water dances briefly in her hands for a moment before it falls back into the river, but Katara isn't disappointed. She did it once, and she can do it again.

"Mom, Dad! Sokka! Guess what!" she cries as she rushes back to their igloo. She glances back towards the river, and the glow from the moon's reflection seems to smile at her.


	2. A Man's Tears

_Our mother's dead_. Even after they'd buried her Sokka still couldn't wrap his head around it. The past few days had been a blur, coming back to discover his mother's body, Katara's cries, their father's pained expression, the Fire Nation ships sailing away full of Waterbender prisoners.

"Hey, Sokka."

Sokka moved over on the pile of furs so Hakoda could sit down.

"Katara finally went to sleep?"

"Yeah. I think she'll be okay," his father said. "But what about you, son? You've hardly said anything these last few days."

"Of course I am! I miss Mom, but I'm also gonna be a man someday," Sokka said, rubbing his eyes, "and men don't cry. Besides, if I get upset it'll just make Katara start crying all over again."

"Sokka..." Hakoda smiled a little. "I think it's sweet that you want to be strong for your sister, but you're allowed to grieve as well." He placed a hand on the back of Sokka's head. "It's okay for a man to cry when he feels pain."

Sokka squeezed his eyes shut as tears began to form.

"I-I just can't believe she's gone, one minute she's smiling and telling us stories and mending our clothes and the next she's dead!" He pounded the furs with a little fist. "I hate the Fire Nation for taking her away, I hate 'em, hate 'em, _hate 'em!_"

He suddenly grabbed the fabric of his father's coat, tears running down his face; Hakoda quickly wrapped his arms around him, stroking the back of his head.

"I know," he whispered, "I hate them too. And I'm mad at myself for not getting there sooner, if only I could have stopped that man in time, if I'f been stronger..."

Sokka sniffled, rubbing his nose against Hakoda's chest.

"No one is stronger than you, Dad!" he cried. "And it's not your fault, it's _theirs_. Firebenders are all jerks and we're gonna get back at them someday, right?"

"Yes, son, we will." Hakoda closed his eyes. "For all the pain and suffering they've caused us..."

Sokka felt his father tremble a little and frowned.

"You know, it's okay if you wanna cry too, Dad."

"If only I could." Hakoda smiled sadly. "Maybe one day I'll be able to, but right now, let_ me_ be strong for everyone."

But as his father tightened his embrace, Sokka could swear he felt tears that weren't his own against his cheek.


	3. Here

The day Hakoda left to fight in the war, he promised he would return before the next Winter Solstice. But by the time that night came and went, he still wasn't back.

Katara sat by the fire, hugging her knees and feeling hurt. _You promised, Dad, you made a promise and you broke it! How can I ever trust you again?_ She squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to let her tears fall. Big girls didn't cry, especially ones who were almost thirteen.

"Hey..." She felt a hand on her shoulder as Sokka sat down beside her. "Don't worry, sis, I'm sure they just got held up. And Gran-Gran said we should get a letter from them soon," he said. Katara sniffled, looking up at him, eyes shining with a mixture of anger and sadness.

"It's not fair! Why did the Fire Nation have to start that stupid war in the first place, I hate them so much!" she cried; to her dismay a few tears slid down her cheeks.

"I hate them too," Sokka said, brushing away her tears. "I wish I were with Dad and the others right now beating up Firebenders!" He placed a hand on the back of her head to comfort her. "But you know what he said?"

"No, what?"

"He said a real man knows where he's needed most, and for me that's here. Protecting the other kids in the village, but you especially," he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "Don't worry, Katara. I promise no matter what happens _I'll_ be here for you."

She curled up against him, clutching the fabric of his parka.

"What if they need you to fight? You know you've been wanting to fight ever since Dad started training you with the spear and the club," she said. Sokka sighed.

"Much as I'd like that, we both know it's never going to happen." He ruffled her hair. "But it's okay. You need me more than they do."

She snuggled closer, pressing her cheek against his shoulder.

"Thanks, big brother."


	4. Hope, Pray, Wait

A time before war, a time when all four nations lived in harmony, the time of the Avatar. Katara remembered every word of her grandmother's stories, so well she could almost picture these idyllic days, but then the memory of the Fire Nation's ships came back and the images disappeared.

The Avatar was gone, they said, the cycle broken. The next Avatar would be Air, and the Air Nomads had been decimated by Fire Lord Sozin near the start of the war. _Where are you, Avatar, when the world needs you most of all?_

_He'll come_, Katara thought every night as she lay in bed, fingers tracing the pattern on her mother's necklace. _He has to._ Most of the world had given up hope of ever seeing an end to this war at all, much less their savior, but even when things seemed darkest she knew there would be a light at the end of the tunnel and with it would come the Avatar.

But until that day she would always look out over the horizon, waiting for that light.


	5. Memory of Mother

Some days, Sokka felt guilty that he could scarcely remember his mother.

He hadn't even been that young when she'd died, but Katara had done more than a decent job of filling her shoes. She was the one who kept their home from falling apart, made sure he and their father ate well and kept their parkas zipped to the top, cared for them when they were sick or hurt.

Today was one of the days he felt the most guilty.

"Katara," he said, "you realize what today is?"

She looked up from the vegetables she was chopping and nodded sadly.

"Mom's birthday."

"I didn't even remember until just now. I just thought Dad was in a bad mood for no reason all morning," Sokka sighed. "Half the time I don't even remember what she _looked_ like or how her voice sounded, and now this...I feel like such a lousy son."

"Don't say that!" Katara abandoned the knife and the chopping block to sit down beside her brother on the pile of furs. "Sokka, we were both so young when Mom died, it's only natural that you don't remember."

"_You_ remember her, though." Sokka felt the heat of tears in the back of his eyes. "Even when I do remember her, her face turns into yours. How sad is that? The only mother I ever knew was my _little_ sister."

Sokka cried when a fish he was trying to catch got away, moaned in disappointment when Dad wouldn't let him go on big hunting trips with the other men. But Katara had never seen him this _sad_ before.

"It's not your fault," she said gently, throwing her arms around him and resting her cheek against his shoulder. "The only reason I remember her so well is because I was there when..."

He nodded, returning her embrace, hands settling on her back.

"Yeah, I know."

After a moment of silence, he got an idea.

"Say, Katara, why don't you tell me some stuff about Mom? Like, what was her favorite color, what was she like when she was mad, something funny she said."

She smiled, pulling the topmost fur around the two of them, and the stories began.


	6. Warrior Girl

If there was one thing Suki hated in this world it was injustice. Nao, a boy in her village, loved to pick on those weaker than him, and every day she watched them take it and do nothing. _He's too strong_, they cried, _we can't tell anyone because we'll only seem weaker._

Nao was eleven years old, big and mean but not very bright. Adults scolded him constantly but he never learned his lesson, his parents were just about at their wit's end.

One day, Suki's brother Alph came home with a black eye and a bloody nose. Nao had beaten him up for some silly personal slight, he cried as their mother cleaned him and bandaged his wounds, and Suki could take no more.

_It's time for someone to put him in his place_. Nao was four years older than her but she didn't care. Even if she lost, at least she would have finally done something.

The next morning, she set out with a determined look in her eyes, found Nao in the village square and confronted him. When he turned around, she gave him a kick right where it hurt the most and sent him sprawling to the ground, coughing and gasping as tears ran down his face.

"You crazy witch!" he shouted. "Someone help me, this girl's gone psycho and she just tried to kill me!" But even the adults who rushed to break them up seemed secretly impressed._ It's as if the spirit of Avatar Kyoshi posessed her,_ Suki would overhear people saying for days afterward, and as she looked up at the impressive statue of the former Avatar she knew instantly what she wanted to do with her life.

A month after she turned eight, she left home to begin her training as the youngest Kyoshi Warrior to date.


	7. Second Son

"I have no reason to worry about Iroh. He's strong, he's brilliant, he's everything a man could want in a firstborn son," Azulon said. But when three months went by without any letter or even a note, his worry was evident even to the most oblivious of the guards and servants.

Ozai slowly made his way to his father's war room, careful not to disturb anyone's sleep. It was well past midnight, but if Ozai knew his father he wouldn't be able to sleep either. Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the heavy door and stepped inside. Azulon sat wide awake on a couch, but said nothing. Ozai let the door close behind him and went to his side.

"Father."

The Fire Lord slowly turned his head to look upon his son with indifference.

"Ozai. What are you still doing up at this hour, you have lessons tomorrow," he said, and Ozai flinched at the harshness of his tone.

"Forgive me, Father, I couldn't sleep," he said. "I just...thought perhaps you might like some company."

Azulon sighed.

"If you insist." He moved over slightly to make room for Ozai to sit down, and the prince smiled a little. At least Father was paying attention to him. They sat in silence for a few moments, then Ozai spoke.

"I had a thought, Father," he said. "Until Iroh returns...I know I'm only thirteen and that's still young, but I need to start learning the things a prince should know. Even if I'm not going to inherit-"

"What's your point, Ozai?" Azulon asked impatiently. Ozai swallowed.

"Might I be allowed to sit in on your war meetings, Father?" he asked, willing his voice to remain even. "I promise I wouldn't say a word, I just want to understand more about my country, and how we've stayed so strong all these years."

His father looked him over, seeming to seriously consider this. Ozai let his hopes rise, maybe Father would think this was exactly what his son needed to know, maybe he would even-

"Absolutely not," Azulon finally said, and Ozai deflated.

"Why?" he asked.

"Your education takes place in the schoolroom, not the war room. Your brother is one of our nation's finest military officers, your place is here," his father said. "Do I make myself clear?"

"But Father, I-"

"_Do I make myself clear?_" he asked again, glaring down at his son, and Ozai felt like he'd just been slapped. _Stupid boy, you're only his second son, what made you think he'd say yes?_ he chastised himself, tears pricking at his eyes.

"...yes, Father," he whispered. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be presumptuous."

"As well you should be," Azulon snapped. "Go now, I've had quite enough of your foolishness for one night."

Without a word, Ozai stood up and walked out of the room. The way back to his bedchamber felt twice as long, and when he made it back he realized he was crying.

He didn't care.


	8. Fathers and Brothers

"Lu Ten, your father and mine are brothers, right?" Zuko asked. "So why are they so different? Why's my father so harsh and yours so nice?"

Lu Ten couldn't help chuckling at the naivete in that sentiment.

"It's just the way things are sometimes," he said. It was a warm summer night, and the boys had decided to spend it in the courtyard while their fathers talked. _Or argued, more likely_, Lu Ten thought.

"But they had the same mother and father, and were probably raised the same way," Zuko said.

"That doesn't mean they'll turn out the same," Lu Ten said. "You and Azula are different, right? You're nice, and she's..."

"A big brat?" Zuko laughed.

"Yes, exactly!"

Zuko nodded, pulling at a few blades of grass.

"But I love Azula even if she's a big brat. Sometimes I don't think my father loves Uncle very much," he said. "That's really sad."

"It is, but remember how much older my father is than Uncle Ozai? They were never very close growing up, and now that they're adults things are more complicated." Zuko flinched.

"...just like you're much older than me?"

Lu Ten smiled and placed a comforting hand on his cousin's shoulder.

"We're not them. You and I will always be friends, no matter how much older I am than you and no matter how old we get, and that's a promise," he said. The words consoled Zuko, who smiled and leaned against Lu Ten's shoulder.

"Thanks."


	9. Goodbyes

_A mother must do whatever it takes to protect her child._

She hugs Zuko, wiping the tears from his cheeks as she tells him not to be afraid. "Never forget who you are," she whispers as she releases him, slowly walking away. She tries to blink away the image of the boy's scared, confused face as she closes the door behind her.

When she comes to Azula's room, Ursa takes a deep breath and knocks. When she recieves no answer she pushes the door open and slips inside.

"Azula," she whispers, leaning over the girl's sleeping form, "honey, I need to go away...I don't know when or if I'll ever come back."

Azula only snores; she's either sleeping too deeply or pretending she is. Ursa sighs, kneeling beside the bed and stroking her daughter's cheek.

"I love you, Azula. No matter how often I've scolded you I love you so much, don't ever forget that," she says, tears brimming in her eyes as she kisses the girl's forehead. Azula stirs slightly, murmuring softly as she presses her face deeper into the pillow. I'm sorry, Azula, I'm sorry that to protect your brother I must hurt you both by leaving you behind.

As she leaves, Ursa whispers a silent prayer to the Spirits. For Zuko, the strength and courage he needs to be himself. For Azula, guidance towards the right path and to make sure her gift never goes to waste. And for Ozai, to remind him that he is loved, and not a day wil go by that she doesn't think of him.

Six years later, the memory surfaces as a hallucination in a mirror. _I love you, Azula, I do._ When the glass shatters and her mother's image disappears, Azula buries her face in her arms and cries.


	10. Pinky Promises

"I'm really sorry to hear about your cousin," Mai said, her polite tone stiff and obviously practiced, but Zuko could tell she really did mean it.

"Thanks." He leaned back against the couch, wishing it wasn't so _nice_ out today. His family had just gotten the news that morning and after enduring two hours of Azula's snarky comments and his father's cold smirk, his mother had suggested he spend the afternoon with Mai. Zuko had to admit seeing Azula's face go from smug to shocked at the idea _had_ cheered him up a little.

But as much as he liked spending time with Mai, right now he just wanted to lie on his bed and cry. Lu Ten was dead, really and truly dead. _What if tomorrow we find out Uncle's dead, too?_

"Um...I didn't really know him that well, but he seemed nice," Mai offered.

"He was," Zuko mumbled. "And he was strong and smart and the best cousin ever. He was like my big brother and he promised when he got back he'd teach me better firebending, and..." He trailed off as the tears began to fall._ Great, now I'm crying in front of Mai and she's going to think I'm stupid and weak!_ He looked up, expecting to see her either snickering or looking disgusted...but to his surprise, she looked sad.

"Zuko..." She wrapped her arms around him and he buried his face in her shoulder, forgetting to be embarrassed.

"It's not fair," he sobbed. "Why did he have to die?"

"I don't know..." She awkwardly tightened her embrace, and the two fell silent. After what seemed like hours Zuko's sobs finally died down and he looked up, rubbing his eyes.

"Sorry I acted like such a baby," he muttered. "Azula and Father are gonna hate me even more when they find out."

"They won't. I won't tell anyone, not even Mom and Dad and Ty Lee," Mai said. "And if Azula bugs me to tell her I'll..." She snickered. "I'll put an apple on her head and throw a knife at it!" Zuko couldn't help but smile a little at that.

"You really promise?"

"Pinky promise." She held out her left hand and hooked her pinky finger with his.

That day, Zuko realized Mai was as much his friend as she was Azula's.


End file.
